They lurk in the dark places of the human domain,
most are hidden in the abyss, imprisoned by the firm waves above,
many lurk in shallower places, their tentacles pull great vessels from the surface,
the elite fly from mountain peaks through the clouds, ready to swoop upon whoever they choose.
They are the most appealing of all our neighbours,
they have familiar features, though we know that they are foreign,
their clothes are perfectly white, blinding to look upon even in the twilight,
they wear golden crowns upon their heads - for they are Kings of us all!
They know how to convince, deceive, lie,
their silver tongues hang out loosely, yet they are all charmers,
their spies hide behind every wall, gathering every utterance to twist,
then they bribe you, or else resort to black mail.
They hold a private circus just for you,
the clowns disturb you, but you know their purpose is to entertain,
the bears and the lions threaten to run lose, but they are tame and their cages are secure,
then the gladiators enter, and they cry, "let the bloodshed commence!"
They wage wars for dominance amongst themselves and against their nemeses,
regiments march to certain death, they die for a greater cause,
their cavalry gallop on the winds, ready to deliver the decisive charge,
and the generals watch from afar, knowing that they have already won.
They lurk in the dark places of the human domain,
they inhabit the fiery bowels of the Earth, revelling in its turbulence,
they ride on the magma, but they wish to ride on lava,
erupting through the crust, polluting the world outside.
hmm....what?
